


Third Time's a Charm

by rhysandh



Category: InuYasha - A Feudal Fairy Tale
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Bankotsu/OC - Freeform, Child Abuse, F/M, Physical Abuse, Romance, Sexual Tension, just lots of tension in general
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-22
Updated: 2020-12-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:16:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27671245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhysandh/pseuds/rhysandh
Summary: She had a duty: seek out the one called Inuyasha. On her journey she runs into the one she recognizes as the leader of the Shichinintai whom she first saw years ago on that fateful day. To her, he is a merciless killer. But perhaps they have more in common than what meets the surface. Main pairing: Bankotsu x OC.
Relationships: Bankotsu (InuYasha)/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 3





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is an AU. I've not finished Inuyasha so I'm not updated on the timeline. This is my first Inuyasha story so we'll see how it goes. I'm open to constructive criticism, comments, and ideas. No flames. Any ideas presented will not necessarily be used, but I will consider them. I don't own Inuyasha, the only thing I own in this is my OC Asha and if anyone has an issue with a woman of color of Japanese descent as an OC they don't have to read this. The backstory for Bankotsu is inspired by another fabulous fic I'm reading called Redemption by YFate so check that out as well! Without further ado, hope you enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Terms:
> 
> Katana - a curved, single-edged Japanese sword
> 
> Daimyo - lord who is a vassal to the Shogun

* * *

Prologue

Asha leaned against the castle’s wall and stared up at the clear sky. Placing a protective hand over the hilt of her katana she reminisces over the events that brought her to the daimyo’s castle.

Sometime in the past couple weeks, the notorious Shichinintai had risen from their graves as walking corpses amongst the living. She had no idea how such a thing was possible, but apparently the samurai general of their territory received word that the band was to seek vengeance for their execution. 

The daimyo, fearing for his life and the loss of his governmental powers, drafted any able-bodied citizen from his territory, which is how Asha found herself currently employed in the daimyo’s guard. She along with other villagers had been stationed around the castle, ordered to lay down their lives to protect their “benevolent” lord.

She was among one of the few women picked out to guard the palace. But she felt bad for the other conscripted villagers. As she looked around at the older soldiers marching around awkwardly with weapons far too foreign and heavy for some of them, she thought about how truly desperate the daimyo must be.

Or was the Shichinintai that big of a threat that the lord’s own army wasn’t enough to take care of them. Forcing men who’d worked their entire lives as simple farmers to pick up a weapon and lay down their lives for a man they would never meet face to face was incredibly cruel in her eyes.

Asha was one of the few lucky ones, especially as a woman, to have received training in the art of weapons and self-defense. Her father was a prominent swordsmith who at a young age fled from a clan of demon slayers. He’d settled down in a remote village, married a woman foreign to this country, and started a family with her. And while he condemned violence, he felt it important for his children to learn how to protect themselves in this warring age – especially his daughter. He trained them in the art and traditions of fighting humans and demons alike.

Their home was located on the outskirts of their village and two years after the Shichinintai had been executed, Asha frequently walked by their tomb that was erected near Mount Hakurei. It was said to have been built in order to calm their restless spirits. At the time, she found it strangely touching that the band had been properly buried despite all the pain and suffering they’d caused. However, she supposed it was motivated by the fact that local villagers didn’t want to risk their spirits haunting them and possibly ruin seasonal harvests. 

Looking back on it now, it didn’t quite seem to do the trick since they’ve been resurrected with an agenda.

“Hey, you! Get back to your post!” A commanding solider shouted at her, rousing her from her thoughts.

He was a tall fellow who looked like he could use a good drink. No doubt all this business with walking corpse’s threatening his lord’s life would cause undue stress, but he looked about ready to pummel her.

Asha simply straightened and worked out the crick in her neck before bowing slightly and leaving for her post. 

As she walked, the faint sound of rumbling and shouts of men caught her attention and caused her to stop and turn.

What she saw was truly a sight to behold.

At the entrance to the castle grounds stood a giant man, more metal than human, with all sorts of contraptions in place of body parts. Standing on top of a metal platform where his legs should have been were three other people.

One of them she nearly mistook for a woman, due to his feminine hairstyle and colorful kimono. But the body underneath was that of a man with strong muscled calves. This strange man carried with him a sharp wicked looking sword. It had multiple thin blades attached to it, which could easily go unnoticed to a less trained eye.

The man standing next to him had long pointed tiger claws strapped to his hands and the last one had a small cannon hoisted on his shoulder as well some kind of large jug.

What threw her the most was the sheer bloodlust she felt rolling off them in waves.

The villagers masquerading as soldiers cowered before them and Asha knew this battle was over. It would be more like a one-sided massacre. This band of mercenaries would not hesitate to slaughter anyone they came across.

With that realization she quickly went to hide herself amidst the chaos. She had no loyalty to the daimyo and would like to live to see another day. She’d heard the stories of the horrific acts the Shichinintai carried out and she had no desire to fall victim to them.

Weaving between oncoming soldiers, she found a deep crack near the side of the palace. It must have sprouted up at some point during the castle’s existence but was the perfect hiding spot as it was small enough to miss.

Asha herself had a slight figure so getting down on her knees and squeezing herself into the space took little effort.

Even though she knew the ground would soon run red with blood, she still wanted to watch and peaked her head around to see the mercenaries quickly disposing soldiers and ransacking the entire grounds.

Minutes later and it seemed like the battle had died down. Bodies of soldiers were spread across the grounds and she placed a hand over her beating heart to calm down.

Suddenly, she started as hooves sounded in the distance.

The samurai general must have returned with his army, though he was far too late.

In that same moment she saw another man exit the palace carrying the biggest halberd she’d ever seen.

It was so large she almost mistook it for a sword until she noticed a sharp blade that curved at the other end. Her eyes widened at the sheer volume of the thing. It looked like a giant slab of metal, the height of a full-grown man, smelted onto a metal hilt. Far too impractical to be used as a sword or a halberd and excessive to use on humans. A better application for it, she thought, would be on a dragon. That’s just how big the thing was.

But the man who held it against his shoulder carried it with a sort of ease that made her envious. His steps were self-assured, and he didn’t look winded one bit. Leaning forward to get a better look at the group, Asha was surprised to see that the man with the halberd was young – really young.

He looked no older than her and yet she could tell that he carried years of battles that she had yet to experience.

She watched him exchange words with the samurai general, too far to make out exactly what they were saying.

The next scene though, would be forever etched in her memory. Asha watched, slack jawed, as the man with the halberd spun his blade in the air as if it weighed nothing before he himself leapt up with blinding speed and cut down the samurai general with one swing of his blade.

His taunting laughter rang through the air as his comrades happily joined him in slaughtering the rest of the army.

It all happened in a fiery combination of cannons, fire, smoke, and blood.

Asha simply sat there and hugged her shoulders, folding in on herself. All she could do was wait for it to be over and pray that they didn’t find her.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Child abuse, physical abuse
> 
> Terms: 
> 
> Kanabo - studded two-handed war club traditionally used by the samurai
> 
> Chigiriki - Japanese flail weapon

* * *

Asha returned home after escaping the daimyo’s palace. Somehow, miraculously, she had survived, having gone undetected by the Schichinintai. Before fleeing, she witnessed a confrontation between the band of ruthless mercenaries and a small group of humans and yokai working together.

Now there was a strange sight.

Amidst their fight, she’d made her escape, going around the side of the castle and fleeing into the surrounding mountains.

Trudging back home, she arrived on her family’s estate and was embraced by her parents and brothers, whom she had sorely missed over the past week. It may have been a short time apart, but she was not sure she’d made it back considering the context of her deployment.

Her father, an ex-slayer named Takeo, embraced his daughter, tearfully. “My sweet girl, you’ve returned home. Oh, I’m so happy your alright.” He stood back, his stern eyes assessing the condition of his only daughter.

“You’re okay, right? You weren’t hurt too bad?” He looked her over. “It doesn’t seem like you have any injuries,” he said, surprised.

Asha shook her head. “No, I-I escaped,” she said, quietly. Unsure of how her father would react. “It was a bloody battle—more like a massacre, really. The daimyo and his army didn’t stand a chance. He’s likely dead.”

She looked up at her father from under her lashes, worried that he’d be upset for her defection.

But he simply shook his head. “I’m just thankful that you’ve come back to us safe and unharmed. That’s all I could have asked for.”

At that moment, her mother and brothers entered the room with sighs of relief as they surrounded her in the foyer of their home.

Her mother pulled her into a tight hug. “Thank the gods you’re home. I was so worried,” she said, running her fingers through her thick hair, so similar in texture to her own.

Asha’s mother was from south of the mainland continent. She had arrived on the island with missionaries who hoped to establish deeper trade relations. At the first sign of escape, she fled from them.

Her mother warned her to be cautious of these missionaries if she ever were to run into them. She explained that their skin and facial structure differed from their own, so she would immediately recognize them.

Asha’s mother had very striking features as well. With warm brown skin and her foreign name, Amrita, it was ensured that she would also stand out wherever she went.

Next, her eldest brother Shun came up from behind and tackled her with a fierce hug. “Thank fucking god. Those _assholes_ ,” he said, voice thick with contempt, “I’m sorry none of us were home when they showed up. They just couldn’t wait a few damn hours before taking you away, could they?”

Asha returned her brother’s hug, wrapping her arms around his neck and resting her head on his shoulder. “It’s okay. I know you would have gone instead if they’d just been patient. But they seemed to be in a rush, so I went.” She chuckled, wryly. “At least they asked if I had any training before taking off with me.”

Pulling back, she looked into her brother’s concerned eyes. “It’s okay,” she affirmed. “I’m home now and I’m more than capable of handling myself.”

Shun nodded and gently kissed her forehead before placing her back on her feet. He had always been tall, standing at six feet towering over everyone including their father who was quite imposing himself. 

Her two younger brothers, Touma and Aman, were also taller than her, having sprouted up in the last few years. Smiling, they ruffled her hair and clapped her on the back with a job well done, even though she really did nothing but survive. Though, she supposed that in of itself was an accomplishment.

She was just happy to be back home with all her limbs intact and her family surrounding her.

“Come inside, let’s all sit down and talk. I’d like to hear all about these mercenaries the daimyo and his men so feared. Were they truly as frightening as the villagers described?” Her mother asked, leading her further into the house.

Her father and brothers followed behind, and together they all spent time catching up before preparing for dinner.

Asha shared what she saw: the leader of the band, carrying the biggest weapon she’d ever laid eyes on. She described the man made of metal and how they stormed the palace grounds, riding on top of him like a wagon.

Her family listened, enraptured, asking questions here and there.

If only her brothers could have seen what she saw. Alas, they were all busy working and weren’t there when the soldiers first came looking for a son to take with them. But now that she was here with them, she would enjoy her time. 

/

Two weeks went by. During this time Asha helped her mother and father on the farm while her younger brothers trained. Occasionally she would train with them, wanting to keep up her strength and prowess as a self-proclaimed slayer. Shun continued working with their father in the shop, taking on clients who needed weapons made or fixed.

It wasn’t until the sight of yokai fleeing in massive swarms away from Mount Hakurei, that everything changed.

She had been outside training with Touma when they saw hordes of demons fleeing the sacred mountain. The two of them gaped at the breathtaking sight. Asha had no idea the ancient mountain harbored so many demons. When the hell did they all get there?

Spiritual barriers surrounding the mountain should’ve made it impossible for any demon to enter and yet, here she was witnessing hundreds of them soaring through the air in a mixture of bleeding reds and purples. They looked like a swarm of angry locust’s that screeched in anger and anguish as they flew through the air.

The clouds in the sky itself turned into a pale pink with wisps of purple as the mountain began to crumble down.

Touma threw his sister a wild look. “What the hell is going on?”

“No idea. Get to the shed. No doubt we’ll have demons to deal with soon enough,” she replied, sprinting towards the shed that housed all their weapons.

The rest of her family, except for their mother, exited the house, making their way to the weapons shed.

“Dad, what’s going on? Where did all these demons come from?” Asked Aman as he lifted a hefty-looking _kanabo_ onto his shoulder.

“I haven’t the foggiest, son,” Takeo replied. “We’ll find out once we’re in the clear.” He pulled over his face a traditional mask made of sleek metal that he’d once told them all taijiya wore to protect themselves from the intoxicating air many demons emitted. His mask had carved into it traditional patterns unique to the slayer clan he was part of.

Shun and Touma followed their father’s example and quickly put on their gear, grabbing weapons carved from the bones of yokai they’d come across in the past. 

Once they were all geared up Takeo gestured for his children to follow him. “Let’s go. Remember, we’re a team. Only take on as much as you can handle and work together.”

With that they exited the shed and hastily made their way into the nearby village with Touma and Aman staying back to guard the house.

No doubt, many demons probably went to raid the first signs of human settlements surrounding the mountain.

/

They fought as best as they could, leading villagers into hiding until the attack was over. But with just the three of them against an army of yokai, there was bound to be some collateral damage.

At some point Takeo got injured, a demon managed took a piece out of his side, a deep gash that penetrated through his protective armor. Though none of his children were around to see just what kind of demon had attacked him.

When Asha and Shun came onto the scene, their father sat propped up against the crumbling walls of a dilapidated house. He gripped his side as blood slipped between his fingers, his expression pinched with pain.

Shun got down beside him and lifted his father’s arm over his head. Asha came to support him from the other side, guiding him with a hand on his back to stand up.

The pair managed to get Takeo back home, the attack seemingly over. Once they were back home, Shun and Amrita got to work treating him with Asha running around gathering medicinal herbs from their garden.

After they dressed his wounds and put him to bed, the two siblings plopped down from exhaustion. Amrita stayed by her husband’s side to help break the fever he had developed. It wasn’t surprising given his injuries.

“Don’t worry. He’ll be okay,” Shun said, noting his sister’s worried expression.

He ran a hand through his mussed-up ponytail. “He just needs rest now is all. He’ll break his fever soon.”

Asha nodded. “But what was _that_? I-I’ve never seen anything like it.” She turned to face him, grasping for words.

Shun tiredly shrugged his shoulders. “No idea, little sister. Your guess is as good as mine.” He rested his hand on his knee, a thoughtful expression on his face. “However, I suppose the purified barrier may have finally been too much for them and forced them all to leave.”

Asha gave him a pointed look and said, “how did they get in there in the first place then?”

Her older brother simply shook his head. “Not a clue.”

And they never found out what really happened on Mount Hakurei that day. She and her brothers tried to scope out the fallen mountain, searching through the rubble and debris, but no such luck. Afterwards, they returned home ready to move on with their lives and help the villagers rebuild.

But what transpired over the next few days after that altered their lives forever.

/

“Aman, harder! Put more back into it, boy!” Takeo shouted, commanding his son.

The youngest sibling looked at his older sister warily. Clearly nervous about hurting her.

Asha shot her father a confused look. He could definitely be hard on them at times, but never had he been so commandeering. There was a hard look in his eyes that she couldn’t quite place.

Turning to her brother, she said, “Don’t worry. I can take it.” Confident smile in place.

He nodded, swinging the chain of the _chigiriki_ at her with more force behind his swing as their father had instructed.

She dodged the bludgeon with ease, landing a couple yards away from where she first stood. 

They continued like this for another hour, Takeo shouting out orders and talking down his son’s skills as they worked through sparring with different weapons.

Finally, she’d had enough. With a low growl, she threw down her weapon and turned on her father. “What is going on? Why are you being so belittling? He’s trying his best!” She said, pointing at Aman.

“You seem to forget. He’s still kind of new at this. He’s not going to be perfect right away!” She said, breathing heavily. Winded from hours of intense sparring.

Takeo glared right back at his daughter with shrewd eyes. “We are living in a time of war. Attacks like what happened a few days ago are only going to become more frequent. He needs to be prepared for when something like that happens again.”

She narrowed her eyes, her lips forming into a thin line. “All that’s fine, father. But you can’t talk to him like that. It’ll only hinder his confidence, you know that,” she said, imploringly.

Something strange happened then.

For a brief second, Asha swore her father’s eyes flickered from brown to scarlet red. But when she looked again, they were back to normal. Maybe it was a trick of the light?

But if that was the case, why was he staring at her like that, wild, almost unhinged, as if she’d seen something she wasn’t supposed to see.

/

After that day, Takeo’s behavior only became more irrational and perverse.

_Slap!_

“Go. Help. Your. Mother. I’ve asked you once already,” Takeo said, his voice trembling with restrained rage.

Touma massaged his face, his cheek burning from the powerful strike.

He swallowed; his mouth suddenly dry. Any harder and he might have lost teeth. Father’s slap felt like a full-blown punch, and it was strong enough that it knocked Touma straight to the ground. He barely avoided his head getting slammed against the corner of the sliding door.

“What’s going on here?”

Father and son turned to see the eldest, Shun, striding toward them in the narrow hall. His eyes swept between his father and little brother. Once closer, he noticed the red flush on Touma’s skin and inhaled sharply.

He bent down and gently cupped his jaw, turning his head to examine the reddening skin.

His eyes flashed, and he looked up at their father. “Did you do this?” He asked, his tone light, almost conversational.

Takeo sneered. “And what if I did?” He asked. The taunt in his voice did not go unnoticed by the two brothers, and they stared up at him wide-eyed.

Shun stood up, his full height commanding the attention of both men. His father looked up at him, unimpressed.

“If you did, I’d like to know why?” He asked, searching Takeo’s face for any explanation for his uncharacteristic behavior.

Sure, they tested their father’s patience from time to time, but never had he lay a hand on any of them. Even when he was at his most enraged.

Many other fathers were known to discipline their children for uncouth behavior. But Takeo had always been different in that regard. He believed corporal punishment to be ineffective and only instilled imbalance in children’s psyche.

Most parents thought him crazy for spewing what they saw as nonsense. But he remained firm in his stance. Which is why Shun was having a hard time understanding what led his father to strike Touma.

“I-I was putting away dishes. But there was a lot more than I expected, so I ended up taking longer. I was going to help mother in the farm after,” he explained quietly, refusing to meet Takeo’s accusing glare.

Shun helped his brother up and glared right back at his father. “That’s why you hit him? He’s done much worse than that before.”

Takeo scoffed and turned on his heel, ignoring his son’s comment. “Don’t be late in completing your chores _again_ ,” he said, his unspoken threat hanging in the air.

He threw his sons one more warning glare before leaving their company.

It was at that moment that Shun saw something.

Father’s eyes. They flashed red. It was for just a moment, but it was there. Or maybe he was just seeing things. But...

He turned to his brother. “Come on. I’ll help you take care of that,” he said, ruffling Touma’s hair affectionately.

The younger one offered his elder a smile. Though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Thanks,” he said, voice cracking. Tears pooled in his eyes.

Shun placed a comforting hand on his shoulder and steered them towards the kitchen, his brows furrowed.

_First with Aman and now this? What the hell is going on with father?_


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've decided to tell this story out of chronological order as I see fit and let you all piece it together lol. I have so many ideas in my head for so many different stories. I'm just making this up as I go. I welcome ideas and constructive criticism. This one ended abruptly but I didn't want to make it any longer. 
> 
> WARNING: graphic violence
> 
> Terms: 
> 
> Kusarigama - a traditional Japanese weapon that consists of a type of sickle on a metal chain with a heavy iron weight at the end

* * *

It was a chilly night; the air was crisp with the scent of earth and pine. A gust of wind rushed through Asha, sending shivers down her spine. She crossed her arms to conserve warmth and peered up at the moon, unable to face the man who sat across from her.

It was full tonight and shown high in the sky surrounded by shadowy clouds, emitting a pale ethereal glow.

Bankotsu sat with his knee propped up as he stared into the embers of the fire, his thoughts on the woman across from him.

Her dinner, which had now gone cold, stared back at her through dull unseeing eyes. Appetite squashed, she sat with the mercenary in tense silence, the night’s events still fresh in both their minds.

His eyes flickered to her. The light of the dancing flames illuminated her warm brown skin, radiating a golden hue.

He recalled a conversation they had where she explained the significance of fire to her people. Her fondness for her heritage drew a small, bitter smile. He realized something was off with his traveling partner the moment demons showed up and attacked. It wasn’t a random hit. They were on the hunt.

“Those demons,” he started, wanting to remain amicable... at least for the moment.

Asha shifted and met his hooded gaze. He looked bored. But his eyes were sharp, alert, as they studied her rigid posture.

She licked her parched lips, and he greedily followed the movement.

She flushed under his heated gaze. Butterflies settled in the pit of her stomach and she looked away. 

He’d always had a way of getting to her with minimal effort. Drawing her out of her shell was a pastime he enjoyed and took to with vigor.

“They were after you. But you handled them well—even for a _ninja_ ,” he said, dragging out the name of her assumed occupation. His tone was decidedly accusing.

Stoking the fire, he prodded the branches and shifted them around. The loud crackling filled the deafening silence as she considered a response. He was definitely aware. There was no way he wasn’t. Not after the way she fought and exposed her extensive knowledge of demons.

His mouth edged into an amused smile as he sensed her growing unease.

Her expressiveness was endearing, and he wanted to ingrain in his memory every emotion that played across her sweet face. Her anxiety was a tangible thing that rolled off her in waves. It gave him a sort of high similar to that of his _other_ favorite activity.

She gnawed at the inside of her jaw, refusing to meet his eyes as she tried to form coherent thoughts. He knew what she lied about, and she would pay dearly for deceiving him. After he shared his own ancestry, she feared his reaction to the truth.

His anger was terrifying, having experienced it before. In those times, she distanced, retreating until he received the message and backed off or became bored.

After learning more of each other, he did things like that: picked her apart, opened and dissected her for his casual perusal. It surprised her that that she’d hidden this secret from him for as long as she did.

“I’m not a ninja,” she admitted.

He snorted. “Really? Pray tell what are you, if not a _ninja_? Your knowledge of demons rivals my own, and I come from a clan of slayers.”

“I...”

He cocked his head, waiting for an answer, but she stubbornly bit her lip and looked away.

His lips pulled into a thin line. If she was going to continue spewing falsities and lying to his face, then he would give her a reason to squeal.

He stood and worked out the knots in his neck and shoulders. He could sense her fixed stare warily following his movements as he strode over to his companion, which rested against a tree.

He didn’t pick it up. Instead, he fingered the hilt and glanced back at the stock-still woman before him. Her wide doe-like eyes stared at him with something akin to dread.

That shocked, terrified expression on her pretty face sent a rush of desire straight through him and he sucked in a breath, forcing down the urge to groan. 

Instead, he gave her a dark smirk. “My clan, they forged this halberd to slay your bigger than average demons.” He made a show of wrapping his hand around the hilt and picked it up. With the familiar weight in hand, he went back and stabbed it into the frozen ground with a resounding crunch. He didn’t miss the way she flinched.

“And as you’ve seen before, it works just as well on humans—”

“Stop it, Bankotsu,” she said, pulling back, alarmed at the abrupt shift in his demeanor.

_Would he really..._

He let out a bark of laughter at her pathetic plea and she felt her stomach sink.

“Stop what?” He sneered. “You’re lying. You’ve been lying all along—”

“You assumed!”

“Then you should have corrected me.”

“Fine, I’m not a ninja!” She yelled. She could feel her lips begin to tremble.

His eyes were hard, not a shred of sympathy lay in those dark pools.

“But I’m not from a clan either—”

“Where did you learn all those techniques, then? You’ve had to have training. Hell, you look like you’ve had formal instruction. You sliced that demon’s head off at _just_ the right angle,” he said, pinching his fingers.

His eyes drifted to the _kusarigama_ resting next to her. Its white blade gleamed in the firelight.

He shook his head. How did he never notice before?

“All your weapons, looking at them now, they’re clearly crafted from the bones of demons.” He could feel his anger begin to rise—at his own naivety more than anything. How he missed seeing her for what she was.

He thought... it was his mistake to think she was any different. Any different from the people who surrounded him, who he associated with. Bankotsu was hardly virtuous. There would likely be a special place in hell for him. Not that he cared.

He enjoyed what he did, and he did it with pride. But...

Asha trembled; She’d never seen him look so angry before. Her fists clenched as she opened her mouth to respond. “My-my father was part of a clan. But he left years ago. He taught me—us, my brothers, and I the art of demon slaying.”

Bankotsu rested his palm on his chin, absorbing this new information.

_So, she wasn’t raised in a traditional village. But one of her weapons, the chigirki she killed the yokai with. The carvings on that blade are familiar. I’ve seen them before..._

“What clan does your father hail from?”

There were a few clans still around. But the design he saw on Asha’s weapon pulled at his subconscious. He _knew_ that pattern.

When she didn’t answer he glanced at her.

The girl looked petrified, her mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, grasping for an answer.

“What clan is he from?” He asked, voice dangerously soft. 

She shook her head, her eyes pleading. “I-I can’t—”

Bankotsu’s lips pulled back from his teeth. “What. Clan. Is he from?”

His patience was running thin and when she shook her head _again_ , he stood to his full height and came around the fire. Grabbing a fistful of hair, he forced her to look up.

She hissed from the sharp pain in her skull. Tears pricked at her eyes as she watched him—slowly, deliberately—pull out a blade and press it against the skin of her neck. The chilling metal barely pierced her soft flesh.

His eyes were dark, pupils blown wide as he bore into her. A small smirk twisted at the corner of his mouth.

Asha swallowed against the steel at her neck. By the gods, was he enjoying this? 

“Tell me, what clan is he from, _taijia_.” Her proper title smoothly slipped from his lips. But the rage that glittered in his eyes revealed his state of mind: he was looking to draw blood.

“I never thought I’d see the day where I’d meet another demon slayer.”

He sounded awestruck, and Asha felt guilt creep down her spine. She should have told him, even if it meant incurring his wrath. If she told him of her own accord, he may have been more understanding.

His thumb caressed her jaw as his lust filled eyes peered into her frightened ones.

“I-I’m not—”

“Really? You’re going to lie _again_.” He tugged at her scalp and pressed the knife more firmly, drawing a thin line of red.

She grabbed at the hand rooted in her hair and cried out.

He laughed. “You are. You are slayer and your father’s a slayer. You come from a whole family of slayers. And now that I know, I think it’s about time you tell me the name of his _fucking_ clan.”

The heel of his foot struck her shoulder, and she hit the cold ground, hard. He stood over her, digging his heel into her shoulder blade as she moaned from the pain.

“I-I don’t remember,” she hissed through blurry vision.

He snarled and snatched her arm. His grip was steel as he dragged her scratching and cursing.

She growled and screamed all the names she ever thought to call him. But they fell on deaf ears. All she wanted was for him to get away and leave her alone. She had never chosen to travel with him in the first place! She didn’t ask for this!

He wrenched her, shoving her up against a tree, and held her there by her bruised shoulder.

She struggled, the evidence of his enjoyment dug into her thigh and she eyed her _kusarigama_. The desire to stab it into his back turned her vision red.

Suddenly, his hand wrapped around her throat and squeezed. She gasped and grabbed it. His grip unforgiving as her lungs burned. And in that moment, a thought occurred.

_How many has he done this to? How many has he crushed the life out of, just like this?_

She felt his hot breath against the shell of her ear. The curve of his sadistic smile pressed against her as he uttered, “tell me the name or I’ll gut you right here—”

“I won’t say it!” Her voice cracked.

His composure snapped. 

“Tell me!” He roared, slamming her head against the rough trunk.

Asha swore she heard a sickening crack. Tears clouded her vision and his enraged face blurred before her.

She may as well tell him. Either way, he would kill her, of that she was certain.

Choking back a sob, she whispered, “Natomi.”

He was silent, the clench in his jaw visible as he dropped her.

He was right. He knew it. He had felt it in his bones, but needed to be sure.

Asha crumpled; her legs felt like noodles incapable of supporting themselves. She forced herself to her knees, her fingers curled into the soil beneath her as she coughed and gasped for air. 

Bankotsu whirled on her. “This whole time you fucking knew your father was—you let me believe—I thought I was the only one left,” he said, hoarsely. He remembered that day. It happened so long ago, but it was fresh in his mind. He would never, _could_ never forget.

His brain ran a mile a minute. There was someone other than him that survived the extermination of his clan. But that someone was a coward, a traitor who dashed at the first sign of trouble.

His eyes snapped to the girl at his feet. “I should kill you.”

She slowly breathed through her nose, trying to bring it under control. Her hands shakily felt around her neck and she hissed. The skin felt tender. There would definitely be bruising. 

Her nostrils flared as she glowered at the mercenary who marked her up. 

“What?” He spat. “I should. But I won’t. Even though you more than deserve it.”

Asha had no response to that. She didn’t know what to say. The man had nearly killed her and was now claiming he was doing a favor by letting her live even though she had nothing to do with his clan’s death. Typical.

She needed to get away, clear her head and just not be around him. He was insufferable and suffocating. She didn’t care if it was freezing, she just wanted to leave.

She didn’t bother grabbing her weapons before hauling herself up and leaving to work off the shock. She just needed to walk. Walk far far away until she felt like returning.

She looked to see if he would stop her, but his back was to her. He sat hunched over the bonfire with his elbows resting on his knees. She couldn’t see his expression, but she really didn’t want to. There was nothing she could say or do to make him feel better. And she wasn’t sure she wanted to.

With that thought, she turned and ambled her way into the darkened woods counting her stars lucky that he hadn't murdered her. 

He would though. Right now, he still had use for her so it was just a matter of time.


End file.
